12/05/25 Balancing Chaos in my Elderhood Years: Teachings from my Mentors.

 

Updated December 6, 2025.

“Truth does not abandon the hearts that fly free.” Connie Bonner-Britt

I struggled significantly in my early learning years. I learned quite young that I needed to become a self taught individual if I was going to survive my fears created from school situations and family issues surrounding my life.  From teaching myself jewelry making, to making my own clothes, to inventing creative ways to survive and graduate from high school. I was married at 21, very much in love. My husband was a good man but also struggled with family dynamics that caused him much grief and  later on in our marriage. At twenty three I taught myself Lamaze child birth practices from a library book before it was being taught in the United States. I was carrying my first child, Jennifer, she was born in October of 1970, and named after my childhood best friend. We lived in Mendocino, California at the time. My husband was in the Coast Guard and he was stationed at the light house there. It was heavenly and a very happy and beautiful time in our lives. By the time my second child was born, Lamaze classes were being taught through the Red Cross and other organizations. Our marriage began to have struggles as my husband was showing early signs of mental illness of which neither one of understood at the time. I became more and more confused and found that I needed to find a way into my educational in order to support us financially.

 I discovered the teaching of Dr Maria Montessori from a friend, I became very excited to share her teachings with my mother. She and my sister, Diana, gave me a beautiful book by Dr. Montessori for Christmas that same year, it was 1972, my second daughter, Emily, was a month old and named after my great grandmother. I soon found myself taking courses, teaching my two very young daughters what I was learning and receiving my Montessori Teaching Certificate by 1977. I was hired by the Swinomish Head Start program as a preschool teacher that fall. I  also used the Montessori tools in our home with my daughters to assure sure both of my children knew how to read  and write before they were enrolled in public school. After my mother and my grandmother, Deedee mom, Dr. Montessori was one my first mentor. 

By that time my husband and I were divorced. During the next several years he would wander without proper medical care. Eventually I was not able to continue the difficulty of being a single mom, knowing he was homeless and suffering, his family did not realize the severity of his mental unless until years later. Through many hard choices I choose to take care of him in our home working to maintain a family and my education and a business for the next 10 plus years. It would not be until 1997 that he would finally be diagnosed with Schizophrenia. After we were able to finally get him medical assistance and proper disability insurance for he went to live with his mother and sister. He would be safe and under proper care now. Our daughters would be in their early twenties by that time. I would go on to complete my MA degree and build a life for myself knowing I had done what I could, through trial and error, and deep lessons of courage both for my first husband and our daughters.

Further backstory into my own childhood and why I felt like an outcast in my early school. I was not allowed to do certain activities that other kids were doing. For example, making cards for holiday gifts. I remember being very disappointed when my teacher told me my writing was not good enough. I had a speech therapist in the second grade. She was so frightening in her approach that on the days I was suppose to see her I would hide in my bedroom when it was time to go to school, not knowing how to tell my mom about my fears. As the oldest of five children, my parents who loved us and worked hard to provide for us, did not know how to help me either. When I was nine years old I contracted pneumonia. I was treated for months, sometimes too weak to go to the doctor, he would come to our house and give me an injection of penicillin. The pneumonia was recurring and the doctor just kept giving me antibiotic shots. Eventually my mother took me to a specialist. I was loosing ground and was very ill. 

The specialist took an x ray and discovered I had swallowed a small piece of plastic and it was lodged in my left lung causing it to collapse. I remembered of course, after talking with my parents and the doctor, that I had swallowed a small game piece that I had been sucking on. I remembered the chocking, the feeling of passing out, not being able to breath at the time. I remembered my mother settling me into bed after the episode, telling me I would be okay. Neither of us connected the recurring pneumonia with that incident. The constant fears I carried did great harm to me as I did not have a voice to speak up in my behalf. It would take years of hiding my fears, expressing them through impulses that continued to harm me, emotionally trapped in my own body, before I would reclaim my self, my free will, and my voice.

When I was young no one really knew about, diagnosed, or addressed ADHD or Dyslexia in young children. Learning reading and math skills was basically a disaster, as I did not learn the way other kids did. I learned to turn to those who would be my life long mentors by researching what I needed at the library. Somehow librarians were very patient and helped me with the card catalog system. I would learn early on, even as a poor reader at the time, to choose mentors through books, that would afford me healthy pathways to my spiritual, emotional, mental, and physical development. One of my favorite books in high school was a gift I had received of a hard cover dictionary. A wonderful mentor in high school for me was Jane Addams. I studied her and wrote book reports about her. I would eventually write about her in my college essays as well. She was an American settlement activist, social worker, socialist, public administrator, philosopher, and author. Jane Addams was a leader in the history of social work and women's suffarage. She became the first woman to win the Nobel Peace Prize for her work in promoting international peace and for her leadership in the peace movement. 

 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jane_Addams.

 When I learned about Transcendental Meditation in the early seventies, I took a class at the local community center and went on to continue practicing mediation on and off all of my life. Never really understanding what it was I was doing or how it might be helping me. It just felt right. I learned and practiced yoga from a book but didn't take a class until my early forties. In the early nineties I read and studied "Women who Run With The Wolves" by Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés. She soon became one of my beloved mentors and still is. I used her teachings on trauma recovery and honoring women's voices through story telling as part of my thesis work for my MA degree. 

I received my Masters Degree in human development with specializations in child development, parent education and community work at Pacific Oaks College, finally completing my thesis in 2002. I began my BA work in 1995. Pacific Oaks College has a main campus in Pasadena, California and until recently had an out reach campus in Seattle. I completed both on line and in person courses in Seattle and Pasadena. The staff were very respectful and inviting. I developed friendships and acquired nurturing relationships with my professors, Dr. Barbara Daniels, and Dr. Elizabeth Jones, founder of the college. Im overwhelming grateful for their contributions to my education. 

Both became my mentors for many years. Their dedication to me as my eventual co-thesis chairs gave me the courage to recover my voice through my own story telling process and to become who I am today.  They never let up on challenging my writing, and while it all drove me mad and often to tears, I am forever grateful to them! I learned of the college at an educational fair I attended while studying at Skagit Valley College, where I received my associates degree in early childhood education. I enrolled through applying for grants and loans which are now all paid off. 

"Grounded in its social justice heritage, Pacific Oaks College prepares students to be culturally intelligent agents of change serving diverse communities in the fields of human development, education, and related family studies. Pacific Oaks is committed to providing and promoting a diverse and inclusive environment for all students, faculty, and staff, where each person can succeed professionally regardless of race, ethnicity, culture, nationality, gender, religion, sexual orientation, gender identity, gender expression, age, marital status, or ability. We believe diversity and inclusion enrich the educational experience of our students, faculty, and staff and are necessary to prepare all people to thrive personally and professionally in a global society."  

https://www.pacificoaks.edu/

 A link to the life and contributions of dear Elizabeth Jones who passed away in November of 2022 at 92 years of age. https://hub.exchangepress.com/articles-on-demand/3176/

Over the years, since the late nineties, I have studied the works of and taken courses from Dr Caroline Myss, author of "Anatomy of The Spirit". Her auto tapes were given to me from my massage therapist who I started seeing after a car accident I was in 1997. The other driver hit me head on going 100 miles an hour according the police report. Witnesses confirmed the incident. After several weeks of physical and emotional distress and of not having a car as mine was totaled, I decided to take the driver, who had no auto insurance to court. A letter was sent to my insurance agent from a man who happened to be in his car parked across the street from the incident, stating what he had seen. The letter would be a God send. I studied the audio tapes by Dr Myss daily for six months. They helped me transform myself after the accident. I began reading her books and eventually took a two day training course with Dr Myss, while working at Skagit Mental Health Children Services. I had been working there for about seven months before the accident. It was there I would meet my second husband as I worked as an intern to receive my Washington State Mental Health Counseling certification. Dr Myss has ever since been another respected mentor that I continue to learn from.

Pema Chodron, Tibetan Buddhist nun and teacher, now 84 years old, has been another inspirational teacher for me over the last twenty years or so. I make sincere efforts to understand and practice her teachings on midndfulness and meditation. I have used Pema's practices of understanding our shared humanity of harmony and chaos within ourselves in my professional work with individuals as a licensed Mental Health Therapist and a Reiki practitioner the whole of my professional career. I would receive my Washington state, Mental Health Counselor Certification in 2004. My internship with Skagit Mental Health Childern's Services was from 1997 through 2004. I completed my Reiki Master training of four years during that time as well.

I have listened to Pema Chodron's audio “Coming Closer to Ourselves” many times. (please see references for her work below). I would like to share my thoughts and recommendations for supporting chaotic energies.  Perhaps you might be feeling and noticing in your body a collective experience of discomfort and distress that is affecting all of us at this time. I have been feeling more intense levels of both these types of energies lately. It all leaves me feeling confused and hopeless. I find I need lots of space between tasks for quiet and calm.  I need lots of meditative moments of quietness. I write this as of 12/05/25 at last full moon of the year.

Here’s what I’ve learned:  How….I make decisions about my day’s activities are about making choices that are Less active rather than More active. I’ve found myself over focused, with a feeling of necessity, on the tragedies and chaos of world events and political wranglings. The more I focus on the man made mess the more massive the internal distress wells up in me. I need lots of reminders that I actually do know what to do in these. I’ve been practicing and teaching these self care skills now for over 25 years through my learned and lived experiences that have led me to my Elderhood years! I do know how to protect myself, I do know what my protective factors are that guide in choosing healthy internal boundaries. I do know how to make safe decisions and create calmness for myself.

 How and what do I choose to do about the chaos and when to pay attention to it….if at all or for any of it? What do I let go of as a matter of sanity in my own life? I honor and recognize these on going inner questions and conflicts as being driven by something Pema Chodron calls,  “Ubiquitous Nervousness.” A term she often refers to in her talks, shared from her Buddhist teachers. We all carry some level of nervousness within us. The question is what do we do with it? 

 I’ve decided to share the personal practices that have been helpful to me over the years. I hope my experiences here are helpful to those reading my work. 

At this writing I've been fully retired from professional work now for just over two years. One healing practice for me is writing. Which I learned to do as I mentioned as a student at Pacific Oaks College. Writing is a skill I find joyful and of course sometimes frustrating when at the same time. It keeps me mentally and emotionally active by enabling me to continue to stay connected to my years of practicing and reflecting on my own experiences and how I learned and continue to practice healthy self care. I have six grand children from the ages of 11 to 23 years old. I volunteer as a member of Friends of the Library in our community. I have a community garden plot that I love working in. I am enjoying new friendships through an International Grandmother's Circle that I was invited into about three years ago now. I have a full, rich life with my beloved husband. A beautiful and grateful life. These are the gifts in my life that bring me joy now…today. However, I still feel overwhelmed by the world's chaotic turns and exhausting events. I need to practice self care...daily...to not be consumed by it!!

Pema Chodron's gentleness is refreshing, as is her intelligence and humor, as she guides you to understanding the purpose of practicing meditation. She describes her own life experiences on how she learned to be gentle and kind with herself. Her teachings as a Buddhist nun and teacher of Buddhism are about practicing meditation by bringing or settling into and staying with yourself with the honesty of the subtleties of the inner nervousness. Developing clarity and courage as you become aware of your own feelings and thoughts at a deeper level. She guides us to consider being open to both the harmony and the chaos within. Learning to understand how to accept the tension of the duality of positive and negative emotions which are as she states, both just energy. 

Nothing to do beyond noticing and being curious about the energy in your body and the thoughts and emotions that arise. Becoming aware of whatever arises and letting go, as a practice of being with the energy. Staying with it, not trying to get rid of it or change anything as a necessary solution, which can often show up in ourselves as impulsive behaviors made to dispel the discomfort by attempting to hide it or get rid of it.

 Another teacher and practice…I trained in Aikido, a modern form of Japanese martial art, for a short time in the late seventies. I started learning from a book of course. eventually a friend introduced me to a dear soul who was trained in the art. He also happened to be a Baha’i. Through correspondence he eventually came to visit me and offered me a few instructions, giving me a practical guide book with steps to practice. He was an elder, he still worked for the post office in Seattle. He took the time to travel to visit with me and spend a couple of hours sharing his humble wisdom. I learned several movements and techniques that taught me how to connect more fully with my body so I could bring myself into a fuller awareness of my unconscious self, reflect more deeply on making choices based on my inner feelings through subtle movement and situational awareness. Over time and in practicing still, I learned to sit with the internal discomfort and let it pass, before ever acting or responding to the uncomfortable situation. I learned to make fewer, less harmful acts towards myself as well as others. I find these practices have kept me safe in many situations in my life, when I remember to practice them, and I always need to re-remember to practice the skills. Offering gratitude for my Asian friend and Aikido teacher.

 To remember…The word remember is a verb: "to have or be able to bring to one's mind an awareness of (someone or something that one has seen, known, or expected in the past)." Oxfords language Dictionary.

I have come to appreciate Pema Chodron’s work, and the work of the great spiritual healers that I have been blessed with in my life. The gifts of wisdom I've received is now the foundation of my spiritual development and my spiritual beliefs.  These experiences in my life are the pathway to my spiritual development. I have been a seeker of religious truth since a young child. I began going to church with neighbors, my parents did not have a church that they attended. When I was nine years old my grandmother took me to the United Methodist Church in Dunnyvale, California where we lived. We attended Sunday school there. I was given my first Bible of which I still treasure. As a young g mother I began studying the Baha'i Writings in the Spring of 1974, just after moving up Anacortes, Washington with my first husband and our young daughters. As I studied the Holy Writing’s of the Baha’i Faith, I was especially intrigued with the principles of "progression revelation". All religions have the same spiritual teachings. Manifestations of God arrive for humanity about every thousand years or so to reawaken us to what we have forgotten about being spiritual beings. From the time of Adam to now. The manifestation for this age is Baha’u’llah, meaning The Glory of God. His message for our time is the oneness of humanity, the unity of religions. Regarding meditation, there is a Baha'i teaching that states, "One hour of reflection is worth 70 years of pious worship." (Bahá’u’lláh, The Kitáb-i-Iqan, (The Book of Certitude, p. 238). There are no directions on how one should meditate in the Baha'i Writings, just that the practice brings you closer to understanding yourself as a spiritual being. 

I have learned for myself that I need some guidance as it relates to meditation and my path to my own spiritual practices and development. In the book, “Paris Talks”, a question was posed "What is meditation in reality and how do we meditate? ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, son of Baha’u’llah, explains the process in simple and clear terms: "It is an axiomatic fact that while you meditate you are speaking with your spirit. In that state of mind you put certain questions to your spirit and the spirit answers: the light breaks forth and the reality is revealed. You cannot apply the name ‘man’ to any being void of this faculty of meditation; without it he would be a mere animal, lower than the beasts." ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, Paris talks, pg 174-175.  

https://www.bahai.org/library/authoritative-texts/abdul-baha/paris-talks/

In learning meditation as it relates to one’s self emotionally and spiritually, Pema states, “Emotions are the combination of energy and thought. You let the thoughts go and what’s left is energy. This is the practice, not the solution, but the practice of meditation”.  In my opinion her teachings on the practice of meditation and her guidance in general can be considered a self care choice leading to a deeper calm. Something that I surely need and as I practice have found to be very helpful in discovering joy and a deeper meaning to my decision making and life's choices. 

One more way to define this principle and practice of choosing a meditation practice as an act of self care is to consider it as choosing to take a “Five Step Self Time Out” for yourself. This is a term my husband of 26 years, and a marriage and family counselor, coined as he was working with families. He developed the "The Self Time Out Tools" and invited me to collaborate with him in his work. The tools are very clear and simple in understanding "feeling language". Often our innermost feelings are difficult to discover within ourselves when we are overwhelmed with anxiety, frustration, anger and fear created from trauma and stress.

As a retired mental health counselor, I’ve studied and written about these insight tools extensively now along side my husband, Chuck Britt. Along with my Life skills and lived experiences, in the work, it didn't take long to learn Chuck and I had much in common. When he asked me to marry him one night over dinner, in the winter of 1998, yes came easy and was a joyful decision. We married one month later. The day after our wedding, which took place on January 2, 1999 at Deception Pass State Park, we spoke at the Methodist Church in Mount Vernon, where we had been invited to speak about the “Self Time Out Parenting Tools”.  I have come to believe in the practical application of the Self time Out Tools first hand through using the tools over many years with the clients I have worked with and in continued collaboration with my husband.  I have witnessed hundreds of individuals and families go through transformational healing using the tools. We continue to offer free and printable materials on our website. https://www.selftimeout.org

As I become aware of the struggle and discomfort in my body, I can choose to reflect and ask myself, what do I feel, what do I need? I can ask, are my choices in this moment life giving, joyful and confirming, or are they life threatening and full of fear, anger and confusion? Very subtle meditative questions that can be a beginning to sitting down and moving closer to yourself. Meditation can become more about learning to not struggle with the uncomfortable feelings of push and pull, for and against, natural dualistic thinking, as Pema Chodron describes it. It can be about actually discovering a curiosity about oneself. Do my choices bring comfort or escalation within myself and my relationships with others? Do my choices give me less turmoil and fear or a more relaxed sense of calm as I make decisions and go about my day? 

The practice of noticing my feelings and needs can be a gentle shift of awareness. As uncomfortable as it might feel, remember it’s only energy flowing within the body. I can stop at any given moment and notice the discomfort the energy flowing within my body. As I do so, I will have more information to choose from about my feelings and my needs.  I can choose to make a plan to take care of myself, to be with myself, gently, listening to my feelings and needs. This  shift helps me to feel less anxious as I become more focused and self aware of my feeling. This is the foundation of a "Five Step Self Time Out".  

Meditation and self reflection can serve as a way of noticing what I am feeling and needing as a pathway to reducing chaos and increasing joy in my life. These practices have become a part of my daily self care for quite some time now. They serve my spiritual, mental, emotional and physical needs in predictable patterns that have served to create safety in my life and guide my choices over time. 

Perhaps, as science is teaching us, these practices affect me in the same way learning to ride a bike did when I was a kid. Neurological pathways of development, connecting and reconnecting throughout the body, at every step. Practicing what I've learned from my mentors over the years and being supported by the practical use of  insightful self care tools, has created patterns within my being that keeps me balanced and support who I am as a healthy whole human being. When I take the time to notice my feelings and needs and practice the skills I’ve learned, I notice I feel more confident in myself and my choices about what I now need to be learning now…in my Elderhood years.

 I know what it feels like to fall off the path. I know what it feels like to get back on the path. I can choose to continue to practice what works for me in my Elderhood years. How do I address my fears and confusions about what it feels like to be getting "older"? Sharing my writings, my stories, and my self care practices with you here, helps me stay connected with myself and with my life as I walk this path and learn to balance the chaos about what Elderhood means for me.

 I am always reading more than one book at a time. I’ve read two books reently by, Anne Lamott, after my friend sent me one of her articles. She is funny, painfully honest and grounded, trying to stay sane, healing writer! The most recent book I am reading now is titled, "Elderhood" Redefining Aging, Transforming Medicine, Reimagining Life. By Louise Aronson MD. 2021. She is a graduate of Harvard Medical School, a geriatrician, educator and professor of medicine at the University of California. It is a 450 page textbook. Not sure about how its assisting me other than informing me of how our medical system has failed to support elders as they age. I don’t think I’ll make it through the book. I’m reading it in sections from the index based on my interest and mood. I do need wisdom about my aging process. I have fear about aging, as my body changes and I’m unable to do what I used to even five years ago. 

Final notes. 

My mother and father are my wisdom keepers and first mentors on the subject of Elderhood! God bless them for allowing me to be their medical advocate in their final years, walking with them through their health care needs, and becoming a full part of their elder years experiences. I am realizing that my reflective writing here on “Chaos and The Elder Years” has been a story unfolding throughout my narrative writing blog page of fifteen years now. Writing has been a way for me to document my life’s lessons and experiences. I write my stories because it is healing for me. A web of stories about my life wrapped around me like a beautiful dancing shawl.

Here are some resources from my mentors that you may find helpful:

Pema Chödrön (Standard Tibetan: པདྨ་ཆོས་སྒྲོན།, romanized: padma chos sgron, lit. 'lotus dharma lamp'; born Deirdre Blomfield-Brown, July 14, 1936) is an American-born Tibetan Buddhist. She is an ordained nun, former acharya of Shambhala Buddhism and disciple of Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche.Chödrön has written several dozen books and audiobooks, and was principal teacher at Gampo Abbey in Nova Scotia until recently.  She retired in 2020.

Pema Chodron https://www.soundstrue.com/products/coming-closer-to-ourselves (from Sounds True publications, soundstrue.com)

Pema Chodron A talk from Sounds True: “Unconditional Confidence, Instructions for Meeting any Experience with Trust and Courage.”

Pema Chodron “The Places That Scare You: A Guide to Fearlessness. A Guide to fearlessness in Difficult times.”

I suggest reading any of Pema Cohodron's articles in the magazine, Lions Roar. The most interesting current article of Pema’s is:https://www.lionsroar.com/from-suffering-to-awakening-3-ways-to-transform-your-emotions/ you may need to create a free account.

Finally often in Pema Chodron’s talks she will refer you to her recommendations for readings that led her to becoming a Buddhist nun and one of the main writings and authors she refers to is on the subject of “negative negativity”. 

One such writing link is at: https://www.thezengateway.com/culture/choegyam-trungpa-working-with-negativity 

Clarissa Pinkola Estés (née Reyes; born January 27, 1945) is a Mexican-American writer and Jungian psychoanalyst. She is the author of Women Who Run with the Wolves (1992), which remained on the New York Times bestseller list for 145 weeks and has sold over two million copies. 

Caroline Myss (pronounced mace; born December 2, 1952) is an American author of 10 books and many audio recordings about mysticism and wellness. She is most well known for publishing Anatomy of the Spirit (1996). She also co-published The Creation of Health with Dr C Norman Shealy, MD, former Harvard professor of neurology. Myss describes herself as a medical intuitive and a mystic. 

Maria Tecla Artemisia Montessori (/ˌmɒntɪˈsɔːri/ MON-tiss-OR-ee; Italian: [maˈriːa montesˈsɔːri]; 31 August 1870 – 6 May 1952) was an Italian physician and educator best known for her philosophy of education (the Montessori method) and her writing on scientific pedagogy. At an early age, Montessori enrolled in classes at an all-boys technical school, with hopes of becoming an engineer. She soon had a change of heart and began medical school at the Sapienza University of Rome, becoming one of the first women to attend medical school in Italy; she graduated with honors in 1896. Her educational method is in use globally in many public and private schools.

The Kitab-I-Iqan: The Book of Certitude. "A treatise revealed by Bahá’u’lláh in Baghdad in 1861/62 in response to questions posed by one of the maternal uncles of the Báb, translated by Shoghi Effendi and first published in English in 1931." https://www.bahai.org/library/authoritative-texts/bahaullah/kitab-i-iqan/ 

The official website of the worldwide Baha'i community: https://www.bahai.org/

"Blessed is the spot, and the house, and the place, and the city, and the heart, and the mountain, and the refuge, and the cave, and the valley, and the land, and the sea, and the island, and the meadow where mention of God hath been made, and His praise glorified." Bah'u'llah. https://www.bahaiprayers.org

Top photo taken of me age 77, at Grandveiw Cemetery Anacortes, WA, October 30, 2025 by my husband. 

Bottom photo taken of me at about age 30, by my friend Marcy North, in the Summer of 1978. Gentlemen in the background are Bill Mitchell of Anacortes, and his friend, of whom I do not have a name.

Drawing created December 3, 2025. Titled Shawl Dance: Merging out of Chaos. 

A Therapist's Rant

Happy Halloween!
 Holiday humor…and distraction from reality. 🧙‍♀️

 This fall season as October ends and November and brings day light savings time and long dark nights with too much wind and rain, the government remains shut down, I will be making plans to take extra food to our local food bank, and giving extra money this year to Meals on Wheels, and The Salvation Army, and worrying about the mother’s who skip a meal or two today and tell you, don’t worry, they aren’t hungry, just to have enough to feed their kids tomorrow. Who in the world would manufacture a food crisis for its people in the richest country in the world by denying federal funds that have already been allocated to feed children, the elderly, and veterans. Deny them quality affordable health care, refusing them a descent good quality life whatever their color of skin. Or close down our Head Start programs across the nation. Really?!!! And then there’s the unconscionable and crippling government shutdown that’s hurting so many. I’ll stop there. And just say….

I’ve been that mother, we don’t stay hungry forever or for long, we fight for our education and our children’s education. We pay it back, pay it forward. We fiercely protect our families from harm at the same time. 

And we are Always grateful! Trust me!

Sooo…ya let’s enjoy a few minutes of distraction, give our kids some candy and have fun and then please… Go VOTE!

 Make a choice to get back to the business of working together for each other, not against each other! Channel your anger, your energy, in whatever way you feel it needs to be done to take personal responsibility to turn this on going incessant arguing and blaming into action and just get busy with the work at hand. To come together as neighbors to clean up this God awful mess that’s happening so rapidly before our eyes. Maybe some of us saw this train wreck coming or might have stepped away from it all. Or didn’t fully understood it because we trusted too much, while working too hard. Or perhaps turned away from it for self preservation or just because they believed differently. Or said out loud or to themselves, that won’t happen here, they can’t do…that. It doesn’t matter. 

What does matter now is that we continue to work peacefully together and in ways that build unifying communities. When we do this good work together we protect each other and demonstrate as a community that we do not tolerate our neighbors being terrorized. 

🧙‍♀️Rant completed from your local retired therapist. Up worrying at 4 am and writing for my own therapy on this Halloween. Anticipating and wondering what the inevitable sunrise will gift us today!

Always Grateful!🕯️🦉🙏🏽

Photo of Sunrise October 30, 2025. La Conner.

Shadow to Light

 

We enjoy walking along Austin Creek close by our place. If you look closely you might see or hear the great blue heron that flew up off the creek bed as I was photographing. We turn and walk along a path of old cedar trees. This peaceful environment is where we reflect and offer gratitude for the love that we are gifted with by so many in our lives. During these seemingly complicated and often frightening times we are living in now, reflecting on life’s small gifts with gratitude is an act of love in itself. 

Anne Lamott published a short article today that was an offering of hope. She said she learned from a friend to go stand in whatever small circle of light you can find when feeling overwhelmed. I liked that.

Step out of the shadow and into any small circle of light, offer up gratitude, widen the circle, brighten the light, fill it with a peaceful heart, caring arms of protection and healing and hopefulness and goodness and hold onto each other.

Renewed Friendships and Ancient Desert Lands.

  

Photo of a Creek bed in our friends neighborhood.

On March 17 through the 25th, of this year (2025) we traveled to Sante Fe, New Mexico to visit long time and dears friend of Chuck. Richard Sullivan and his wife Melody Bostik, have lived in Sante Fe for over twenty five years. They have been inviting us for some time to visit. Then in December of 2024, Richard called again and invited us. Chuck had not seen Richard since he left Los Angeles in 1989 to move up to the Pacific North West. Although my father was born in Thomas, New Mexico, and I was born in Dalhart, Texas, I had never been to the regions of the Southwest of the US before our visit in March.

Chuck and I went on walks together in their neighborhood and witnessed the very dry landscaape and dusty creek beds lined with sage brush and cactus of various kinds. We had wonderful evening conversations throughout our visit with Richard and Melody. The four of us took turns cooking our favorite meals for each other. They have two adult sons and both were able to join us for a meal the Sunday before we left. It was lovely to meet these two beautiful souls who have been working together for many years. They were excellent hosts and I made new friends! 

Here is link to their web site where you can learn all about their extraordinary work..

  https://www.bostick-sullivan.com/about/ 

                                               

 

Chuck and Richard in his office.

 

Chuck and Melody and their son, Dana  at their shop.

 

 
Melody gave us her pass to all of the wonderful museums in and around the Sante Fe Plaza. We had such a wonderful time visiting together in their home that we never actually went into a museum, as wonderful as it would have been, although we did get close. One week was definitely not enough time.

While in the Plaza we stopped by a wonderful jewelry booth. We had gone to visit Richard and Melody's son, who works in the Plaza. The jewelry maker, Ben Chavez, has been making jewelry and presenting it at that particular booth for many, many years. His son James, also a jewelry maker in his own right, was manning their booth, El Platero Silversmith. He noticed that the earrings that I had on were made by his father over 40 years ago. He was adamant about the fact. As noted, I had never been in Sante Fe before and had actually bought the earrings in Mount Vernon, WA. at the Skagit Valley Food Co-op many years ago. His son told me the earrings I had on were his father's signature design, which is the black stairs of the Navajo. They are sold all over the world he said, on consignment. He asked us to come back the next day to meet his father and show him my earrings. I've attached photo of me and the young man.

 His web site is www.elplaterosfplaza.com. On the Sante Fe Plaza since 1984.

 

James and I on the Plaza

 

James selling their jewelry on the Plaza.

 El Platero Silversmith.

 

The rest of the photos are from a drive we took into Jemez Pueblo country outside of Albuquerque at the tail end of our visit. Walatowa is the ancient name of the Jemez Pueblo. This is the land where Scott Momaday grew up as a child. It is the backdrop of his novel, "House Made of Dawn", which was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1969. At the time I did not connect our visit to the Jemez Pueblo with his novel or his childhood home, even though I had recently been listening to his book on audible. I was listening to the wonderful preface again this afternoon, which is narrated my Momaday. I finally connected his Jemez Pueblo homeland and the novel with the same area we visited in March. So…I needed to revisit my photos I had down loaded onto my computer. In doing so I find myself writing and revisiting my memories of our trip. 

Photos I took of some the Jemez Pueblo sites are below.

"The Pueblo of Jemez (pronounced “Hay-mess” or traditionally as “He-mish”) is one of the 19 pueblos located in New Mexico. It is a federally recognized American Indian tribe with 3,400 tribal members, most of whom reside in a puebloan village that is known as “‘Walatowa” (a Towa word meaning “this is the place”). Walatowa is located in North-Central New Mexico, within the southern end of the majestic Canon de Don Diego. It is located on State Road 4 approximately one hour northwest of Albuquerque (55 miles) and approximately one hour and twenty minutes southwest of Santa Fe." 

https://www.jemezpueblo.org/about/history-and-culture/

Photos below were taken in the Jemez Pueblo area. 

A prayer for Guidance and Protection

 

I first had the honor of meeting Kevin Locke at the annual Neah Bay Spiritual Gathering “Makah Days”  in August of 1977, hosted by the Makah Indian Nation and the Bahai's of Neah Bay. Over the three day event Kevin offered this prayer for us, along with several Baha'i prayers. Kevin and his mother Patricia A. Locke, were both members of the Baha'i Faith. Recently this prayer was read by a friend during a prayer circle. Over the years our family has returned to Neah Bay several times for Makah Days.

Here’s a link to this year’s Makah Days.

Makah Days 2025  https://makah.com/attractions/makah-days/

Kevin passed away on September 30, 2022. This link by the National Endowment of The Arts remembers Kevin for his accomplishments. https://www.arts.gov/stories/podcast/remembering-kevin-locke#:~:text=Thanks%20for%20listening.,and%201990%20National%20Heritage%20Fellow.

Kevin Locke  (Tokaheya Inajin in Lakota translation “First to Rise”) is a world famous visionary Hoop Dancer, preeminent player of the Indigenous Northern Plains flute, traditional storyteller, cultural ambassador, recording artist and educator.  Kevin is Lakota and Anishnabe.  While his instructions were received from his immediate family and community, from extended family in every part of the world, Kevin has learned many lessons in global citizenship and how we each can draw from our individual heritages to create a vibrant, evolving global civilization embracing and celebrating our collective heritage. https://kevinlocke.com/about-kevin-locke/

Patricia Locke, Tawacin WasteWin, she of good consciousness, compassionate woman, was born in Idaho, a Standing Rock Sioux-Hunkpapa Lakota, and Mississippi Band of White Earth Chippewa. She received her college education at the University of California at Los Angeles and became a world-renowned educator, making her home at the Standing Rock Lakota Reservation in South Dakota. https://www.womenofthehall.org/inductee/patricia-a-locke/ 

 

 Lakota Sioux - Chief Yellow Lark - 1887

 

Oh, Great Spirit,
whose voice I hear in the winds
and whose breath gives life to all the world, hear me.
I am small and weak.
I need your strength and wisdom.

Let me walk in beauty and make my eyes
ever behold the red and purple sunset.
Make my hands respect the things you have made
and my ears sharp to hear your voice.
Make me wise so that I may understand
the things you have taught my people.
Let me learn the lessons you have hidden
in every leaf and rock.

I seek strength, not to be superior to my brother,
but to fight my greatest enemy - myself.
Make me always ready to come to you
with clean hands and straight eyes,
so when life fades, as the fading sunset,
my spirit will come to you
without shame.

Chief Yellow Lark, a Lakota Sioux chief, is known for translating a prayer to the Great Spirit, also known as Wakan Tanka in Lakota spirituality. This prayer Emphasizes reverence for nature, the Great Spirit, and the interconnectedness of all living things. It reflects a deep spiritual connection to the universe and a plea for guidance and protection. https://luminaryquotes.com/quote/let-me-walk-in-beauty/ 

 How Baha’is Promote the Recognition of Indigenous beliefs. Christopher Buck and Kevin Locke

 

 

 

 https://bahaiteachings.org/how-bahais-promote-recognition-indigenous-beliefs/

 

 

 

Web site of the International Community of the Baha'i Faith

www.bahai.org 

 

First Daughter, Still Standing. Truth Does Not Abandon The Hearts That Fly Free.

 Truth Does Not Abandon The Hearts That Fly Free.

 Stories of my mother, my grandmothers, and their influence on who I am becoming.

 This writing is in draft stage. As my life brings me new understandings of myself I continue to weave those understandings into my writing. 

My mother, Velda Mae Bonner Kolhs, was a woman of her own mind and heart. Getting to know my mother n my lifetime has given me a wealth of stories, as Ive witnessed my mother's life through the decades now. She passed anay in 2015, this year is the tenth anniversary of her passing, I dedicate my writing to her.

 Juanita Airington Kohls, mother of my mother, passed away when mom was only four years old. The early death also left behind stories, but unfortunately they took years to unfold and were only yet to be told to me in small windows of time and over years and into my mother's final Elderhood. My father’s mother, Audrey Mae Stanton Bonner, was with us until 1976. I was a young mother and 28 years old when she passed. Known as Deedee mom to her family, I had the privilege of being her first grandaughter,  spending a great deal of time with her while I was growing up and all throughout my early adult life. Offered as a gift, and in their own individual capacity, for as long as they walked this earth. I  carry the precious stories of my grandmother Juanita's short life here on earth, along the joyous and life experiences I had through my young life with Deedee mom. Both of these gracious lives nad their gifts I carry with me always,  deep in my heart and soul. 

I am the First Daughter Still Standing.  

These Are My Stories.

I will first share a little about myself. Then I will share about my mother, what I have learned from her, as her first daughter, what I have learned about my grandmother Juanita's passing so early in my mother's life, and how their history came to be a focus the whole of my life.  

I am grateful to be the daughter of a mother who loved me deeply. My mother was raised without a mother from the age of four.  In all the years of my growing up as the oldest of five children, I very often felt alone. I attempted to do well in school, but always struggled, mom did not quite know how to support me, but she didn't let that stop her in her tireless efforts to support me the whole of my life. an hers, as my mother. as I grew up I really did not have role models for how to extend my educational goals through school and after graduation from high school. Getting through difficulties in school was certrainly something that was not verbalized by me. l had a rough start, was a poor reader with dyslexic and ADHD tendencies, which were not recognized or understood. I struggled personally to feel supported and confidant about myself. There was little known about these learning disability issues when I was a child in elementary school. I was left alone as a young child, not understanding why I was often subjected to bulling by both students and teachers.  Therefore, I felt ashamed, painfully shy and inadequate. I would often give up on myself feeling helpless in knowing how to speak up for myself in these situations, which made my choices as a young person complicated. My role as the oldest of five children was not about developing myself, on the contrary it was about ensuring my sisters and brothers were safe, the house was organized and clean, and  that I was around when my dad called me for whatever reason. When I finally realized I did have a separate self from my family, I would be an adult with two young children and in a cross roads of determinations to seek a life for myself that was beyond the bounds of my family. 

I fully accept myself now. Life's lessons, my choices, my mistakes, the trials and suffering from them all have become my teachers. I take full responsibility! My parents and grandparents withstood the great depression, the dust bowl of the thirties, World War II and migration from one state to another to make a living for themselves and move from hopelessness to strength and courage. With the to passion to strive to love deeply in spite of the uncertainty and difficulties of living from one pay check to the next. Their strength to endure gave me the courage to, step by difficult step, find the path to my spiritual needs and educational goals. I would strive to sustain both as they are not separate in my eyes and I continue to this day to embrace what nurtures me. As a child I would invite myself to go to church with different neighbors, learning about various churches along the way. I will write more about my spiritual path at some point in my story telling here.

In the summer of 1976 I completed my Montessori Certification for children ages two- six years. The fall of that year I was invited by a friend to apply for a position teaching preschool for the Swinomish Head Start Program in La Conner. After recovering from a severe bout of Pneumonia in 1977, I quite my work there. I needed to have work that was less stressful and gave me more time with my young daughters so I chose to investigate getting a license to provide in home child care. I began serving children in my home very soon after applying and receiving my child care provider license, as there was no child care facility in Anacortes where we lived. I enrolled in the community college in the Early Childhood Education Program and soon went on to create, own, and operate a child development program serving children of the community for over 15 years. I was the first in the family to attend college. I would eventually complete my Masters Degree in Human Development, with three specializations. Along the way and in the late summer of 1991 I was invited to use my education and experience to assist the Samish Indian Nation to develop their preschool program. They had recently received a state grant and needed someone who could help design the program. I accepted this position while at the same time completing my degrees.  I hired staff, one of whom was my youngest daughter Emily who at that time was out of high school and had decided not to go on to college. She helped with my own child development program in order for me to assist the Samish with their project. 

In the spring of 1997 I sold my child development program. I had accepted a position with Skagit Mental Health Children's Services in Mount Vernon to help develop a therapeutic program for children ages birth to six years who were at risk. We worked to provide parenting education and mental health services to young parents who were disenfranchised. Then in the fall of 1998, I was invited to apply for a part time position at Skagit Valley College. This was in their Parent Education Department and I provided services at four different Coop education preschool programs across the county. I served as a parent Educator. In the winter of 1998 I was dating and fell in love with a wonderful person whom I had met at Skagit Mental Health, Chuck Britt. Chuck and I worked well together and had similar values. When I invited him to meet my parents my mother said to me. "Connie I think he is smitten on you!" Chuck got along very well with my parents, they fell in love with him too. 

With their blessing, we were married on January2, 1999. The next day was a Sunday and we had been invited to speak to the congregation of the Methodist church in Mount Vernon about our work and the materials that Chuck had been developing with his co-workers. I felt blessed to be a part of his life and work. I soon joined my husband's private practice where we would serve families across the county, building the web site together which assisted individuals of all walks of life with their children.  In 2004 I passed my Washington state license exam as a Mental Health Counselor after completing my internship at Skagit Mental Health Children's Services.  I had earned my 2000 hours needed. With the support from a grant from Washington Department of Children and Family Services, I assisted in developing a parenting education and therapeutic child development program for the county serving children birth to six years of age. In 2008 I was invited to apply and was accepted as faculty member and instructor for the Early Childhood Education Department of the college.

At age 66, I retired in late 2014 from the college. I needed to spend more and more time with my mother helping her with her health needs. At that point I had become her medical advocate. She was no longer able to drive and my father had not been driving for some time. She often had more than one appointment a week, including in home services, where I felt the need to attend and support her in all of her health care needs. I did do some further family counseling work after being invited by the Swinomish Tribe to work in their mental health services department. The Swinomish people had remained my family of support since 1976. I served the tribal community up until 2018, just before my father passed away, I was 70 years old. This decision gave me the opportunity to support him, along side my brother. By 2020 Covid had hit hard and we were not able to serve families in person or host our weekly parenting support groups. We made a decision to sell our home of 25 years that we had purchased after we married. We moved to Sudden Valley, WA and continued to provide on line counseling and parenting support, until we both fully retired in the fall of 2022.

As young wives and mothers both of my grandmothers packed water when needed, milked cows, grew vegetables and flowers. Harvested corn, beets, tomatoes, potatoes, and more. They both rode horses, and not for pleasure. Raised chickens and children along side of each other. My father told me his mother carried baby chicks in her apron when working outside to protect them from harm. I remember Deedee mom telling me when she was in and out of sleep after coming home from nursing home after care to, "Remember to leave a pan by the faucet for the water to drip in for the chickens." I have since reflected on her words often and how frugal she had learned to be as a young woman growing up during the depression and living in the dust bowl era. My Grandmothers loved their babies with compassion and protection and demonstrated strength and courage in times of trial that reflected that love. Stories of these were told to me by my parents over the years. My Grandmother's carried courage in their hearts and modeled that path of courage for us through out their lives. Juanita's life taken from her family way too soon, free and wanting and somehow mysteriously haunting. Audrey's life was full and long. She was a loving care taker to so many throughout her lifetime.

The early loss of Juanita's life to an illness of hidden truths that stories and letters barely revealed, left my mother alone and unprotected at too early an age. She was the middle child with a brother about a year and a half older, Avery, and a brother about a year and a half younger, Bill.  From the family stories passed down and old letters that I've read, I believe my grandmother Juanita suffered from depression, which today in young mothers is diagnosed as postpartum depression or PPD. Certainly not a recognized medical diagnosis in 1933. Her passing was from an unfortunate miscarriage of her fourth child which took her life on June 23, 1933. There was some concern that arose from me in having read a few letters to my grandmother Juanita's husband, Sunny (Reinhart Edward) Kohls, from my grandmother Juanita's mother, Florence Gwinn Airington. In one letter Florence wrote, in July of 1933, how sorry she was that she could not come out from Hayward, California where she and the rest of the Airington's lived at the time to Fruita, Colorado where Sunny and Juanita had settled. In the letter my great grandmother wrote that she was sorry she hadn't written Juanita more often. She wrote that "it was the same old stuff going on for Juanita" and she knew that my grandfather Sunny and his family had been doing all they could for her. It was distressing for me when I first read this letter which was one of several others kept in a cigar box in a trunk that would come to my mother the year before she passed away. In that trunk with the letters would also be a purse that belonged to Juanita. In that purse was a undetermined medical prescription for Juanita that had not been filled, as best I could figure out. Juanita was one of eight children. There were several letters from other members of the Airington family urging Sunny to come to California after she passed away,  so Juanita's family could help him with the young children. This was something he could not manage. His parents, who were German immigrants,  lived in Fruita. This was their home and livelihood as farmers. There are stories from my mother about how Sunny's family helped with the children. At one point early in the first year of Juanita's passing my mother went to live with her aunt up the road from her father. However, it's never enough,being without her mother. As a farmer her father worked endlessly on the farm and left her tangled in un-named grief that she held tight in her heart all of her life.

I remember one of her visits to Anacortes, Washington where I was living and raising my daughters, mom and I were in a antique store in La Conner, WA called Nasty Jack's. Upstairs there was a rocking chair she recognized and when my mom saw it she said very distinctly, "Oh my gosh Connie this is the same rocking chair daddy sat in for so long, I thought he would never stop crying." That was an extraordinary statement, one of the first time's she had ever shared anything about that time in her life with me. It was a door into her childhood and an open window for questions that she might finally be able to answer for herself and for me. That was the year I had found Juanita's younger sister, Lucille, living in Seattle. During mom's visit I took her to visit Lucille. I slowly began to understand my mom and the reality that my grandfather had no idea how to take care of the three young children born close in age together, as he continued his work as a dairy farmer who also farmed eighty acres. The sadness remained buried in their grieving hearts all these years. This grief and pain settled deep in my mother's blood and bones from the moment of her mother's tragic death and would take her breath away. She suffered from asthma as a child and adult, and would pass away from emphysema, COPD and peripheral neuropathy.

My grandfather Sunny worked hard from sun up to sun down. He grieved the loss of his wife, Juanita. They were very much in love, as my mother tells the story. However, without any support with the heartache he and his children were experiencing, they were all left with the tragedy and grief to carry on the best they could as life pressed forward. Sunny would eventually marry his housekeeper, hired sometime in the first year of Juanita's death, a sad and distressful story of it's own that I choose not share here as I feel their relationship was one of a person manipulating a grieved father. A story so to be so disruptive to their lives that it is one of its own for future writing. There were many letters Sunny saved in the trunk that were written by the housekeeper to Sunny in which much was revealed to indicate these types of manipulative behaviors. Once my mother began to share her life with me over the next few years, its clear to me there was hidden and painful, deceitfulness behaviors occurring as my mother was growing up. The trunk that came to my mother in Washington via relatives from Colorado, sat in my mother's bedroom bedroom where she grew up throughout her childhood. Mom told me she remembered it was in her bedroom closet as a child. The trunk returned back to her by very sweet relatives the year before my mom passed away. There were many family photos along with all of the the many letters my grandfather saved over the years. The funeral notebook for Juanita as well as a lock of my grandmother's hair.Over the next several weeks and months as I visited mom we would go through the trunk together. I would turn on my iphone and record our sessions together as we went through the trunk and she gently told to me about her life. We did not get to the some of the letters together and I don't know if she ever read them or not. However, after mom passed it took years before I could go through the trunk that was handed down to me.The trunk that was carried from Colorado to my mother by her great grand nieces in May of 2014, the year before mom passed away at the age of 86. I was 67 years old. 

One year after after moving to Anacortes mom gave me a gift. The year they retired to Anacortes was 1997. She had been holding on to it for many years After attending her father's funeral in Colorado in June of 1985, my mother brought a few things home in an old suitcase that belonged to her father. She had been saving those beloved treasures all that time. The gift to me was an unfinished quilt top made by her mother, Juanita. Mom was so tender with it when she handed it to me. In that moment there seemed a life passage taking place for both of us. I finished that quilt and gave it to my mom for her 70th birthday. I wonder to myself now if that beautiful hand made quilt top didn't come from that old trunk. As the first granddaughter, that trunk and the photos and letters of condolences was left to me after mom passed in 2015. It wasn't until 2023 that I finally reread and labeled all of the letters and sorted out her precious things.  After heart felt turmoil, I needed to empty the trunk completely. It was time. That same year our 20 year grandson had come to visit from Toronto for Christmas. He was doing genealogy research and wanted to explore the items in the trunk. He traveled home with many photos that he would later scan and document into our family tree on Ancestry.com. Later that year I  organized the remaining photos and letters and have them well kept in a small storage container. In the summer of 2024 the trunk went to the second hand store, now a treasure for someone else.

Before all that however, my mother and I went through all that was in that trunk. We did not read the letters in the cigar box together, she may have when I was not with her. I dont know. Each time I visited her to go through the trunk I would record my mother telling me stories. Each photo becoming another page in her history for me as we went through them. I noticed the beautiful stories and the sorrows in her heart that she carried for so long lifted some of her pain and created a space for joy during those days. We are grateful to our Colorado relatives for honoring my mother with their visit and gift of returning the family trunk that year. I knew then how she learned to deeply love herself and her five children and her life. She did not allow the pain to confuse or manipulate her love. Nor did she allow the love between her parents that she felt and remembered to vanish from her heart.

My courageous mother was too young to be a breathless and motherless child. My Grandmother was too young to die. I know this because I feel it and I carry it in my heart. There were gaps in our relationship of course. How could there not be. As the oldest of five children, I sometimes was left to wander, growing up with that vulnerability and yearning for the answers that hid in a void. My mother did not know how to willingly share her pain and yet and still, she did in her actions that I came to understand. There were gaps and quietness which I witnessed in her not being able to show up for me at a school play or music concert or a gathering outside our family. In time as we worked together going through the contents in the trunk, which took a few months because too much was too much at one time, her heart softened to be able to share what she had long been holding in. She told me stories that were told to her about her mother, my grandmother. The fastest rider, the best at catching fish. How the children ran barefoot and free and played joyfully and without fear. “Little urchins we were called by some of the farming neighbors”, my mother said.

Healing stories. For truth does not abandon the hearts that fly free.

I'm the first daughter still standing now and I carry these stories and deep healing in my heart. I share them willingly.

Conversations held as miracles.

I carry the wisdom of the now untangled grief and weave it with the heart of my mother and grandmother with love, with the deep love, that was gifted to me from their lives and their courageous stories and experiences. Healing that did not come without the tangled, strangling grief of a breathless child left wandering, vulnerable, and motherless, holding on the love in her heart and courageously offering that love to me and each one of her beloved children.

I know this now. Because I am the first daughter still standing and I am my mother's witness. Mom passed on December 25, 2015. Hospice helped us care for her in their home. We were all with her, she was never alone, she is loved deeply!

The story of my father's mother, Audrey Mae Stanton Bonner, is one of courage, endurance, and strength. She first came to visit us when I was just learning to talk. My father wanted me to understand that his mother was coming to visit. I did not call my father daddy or Dada, I called him Deedee. He told me Deedee's mom was coming to visit. Thereafter, she was always Deedee mom to me, and throughout her life to the rest of her grandchildren and family. Deedee mom was at our home for every birth. She cared for my mother and the new baby, she cooked and cleaned while mom rested from childbirth and nurtured us all. There are five children in our family. Deedee mom was there when my dad and I brought my baby brother and mom home from the hospital, their fifth and very unexpected child. I was fourteen at the time, I became her helper. There was much for me to do. Several months later when it was time for Deedee mom to leave, I stayed the helper of caring for my baby brother. I wheeled him in his stroller as I sold Girl Scout cookies all around the neighborhood. He was the center of attention at sleepovers and birthday parties.

Deedee mom was left to care for herself and her two sisters when she was about 12 years old. Her mother had passed away from an illness that I don't remember ever talking to her about. There are no stories that I can remember of her mother's illness. Never the less, Deedee mom became quite self reliant at a very early age. My father tells me that when he was a boy he drove cattle with his father on a cattle ranch that they worked on. My grandmother was the cook for the ranch hands, dad said. He has stories that he has written about and so I wont try to go between the lines here. My dad's family stories, which have been written and told by him have been recorded and preserved. They are wonderful in their own right. They are on our website, with his own link, Bob Bonner's Stories.

What I will write about is what I learned from Deedee mom. I spent a great deal of time with her. I stayed with her many weekends. By the time I was ten years old I knew how to make dresses and worked with her on hand made quilt projects. Every one of her grandchildren was given a handmade quilt at some point in their childhood. Her quilts were a part of us. When I was a young girl Deedee mom was a caretaker for a priest in a Catholic Church in Santa Clara, California. I would help her in her work. We would shop together. She taught me how to set the table for serving the priest breakfast and dinner, where to place the silver, the crystal glasses, the bell next to his chair that he would ring if he needed something. I learned how to cook in a style of presentation for the table. Beautiful side dishes with various colors and displays, just like in the cooking magazines. I learned how to buy a pork roast and how to make jello salad in just the right mold and with just the right fruit. In the evening she would sew on her machine and I would watch her, sometimes helping. One weekend she decided I needed a new pair of pajamas. I stood by her sewing machine and watched her sew me a pair of blue flowered, flannel pajamas that I wore to bed that night.

In the Spring of 1976 she had been suffering from breast cancer and was just home from being in an after care nursing center. My father asked me if I would spend time with her. My children were 1 1/2 and 3 1/2 years old. We stayed with her for about a month. She was mostly bed ridden, but slowly found energy. We would sit together and go through her photo albums. She would share her stories and treasures. We would cook together. One day she got up from bed, knowing I would be leaving soon, and made me a beautiful pink flowered, long flannel nightgown. I was going back to Washington where I lived and she wanted me to be warm. I had made pajamas and robes for my children from what she taught me, so they did not have a need at the time. Those precious days were the last that I would be with my Deedee mom.

Endearing to me was her commitment to every year making each grandchild a special birthday cake. For every birthday she somehow managed to show up to make a cake, and always from scratch, even the frosting. She had a very special musical birthday cake plate that played happy birthday. I learned to make the best apple dumplings and carrot cake and yes, the best german chocolate cake ever from her. I flew to her funeral in California the Fall of 1976 with my little daughters, just a few months after we had spent that precious month together, to join my family and the hundreds that attended her funeral at the Methodist church in Santa Clara where she was a member. Deedee mom is buried at the Mission Cemetery in Santa Clara. Her son Leroy Bonner, was laid to rest next to her after his passing in 1996.

I am the first daughter still standing. I am a mother. I am a Grandmother.

I am deeply loved. And I love deeply.

I am sometimes breathless with pain. I have healing stories of my own to share. I speak of them willingly, but not always. I learned this from all the beautiful women in my family who carried courage in their hearts. Released. Freed from wandering, knowing my heart and my path.

My daughters will not be breathless. Too often. My mother is no longer breathless. She Flies Free.

My daughters are deeply loved. I know this, because I see it, I feel it in their children, my six grandchildren. My grandchildren are deeply loved. They deeply love. I know this because I witness their love. I am their Grandmother. I am still standing.

My Grandmothers rode horses.

They carried courage in their hearts and passed it on to me. Courage to deeply love, held firmly like the strength of a horse that holds all the wisdom the ancestors carry. Passing it down through their hearts, with the power and strength of a horse, yet gentle as the soft downy feathers of a baby chick, like the smooth leather of a saddle bag.

I know this. I am Grandmother still standing. I hold the wisdom oh my ancestors in each breath I take.

I’ve learned how to breathe. They have gifted me the understanding, the wisdom of their trials, pain, and suffering and courage. The power in my Grandmothers, in my mother, is the the power of their endless courage to love deeply. I know this.

I am First Daughter, Still Standing.

Title photo, First Daughter Still Standing, is of me and taken by Chuck Britt, on December 24, 2024. We were offering a Christmas wreath for my parents at Grandview Cemetery, Anacortes where they are buried together.

Below photo is of me and my mother and one of my favorites! Taken by Chuck Britt when we visited Mt Constitution on Orcas Island in the early 2000's, dad was with us as well. 

 

  

Photo of my mother about 1974. Orosi, California. She was on the horse they bought and where my  parents purchased five acres of orange groves. Some years after I left home. They lived a very happy life there until moving to Folsom, CA. where they bought a mom and pop store and gas station. 

In 1997 they retired and moved to Anacortes in the summer of 1997, after the passing of my sister Diana in November of 1995.